Gallifreyan
by warinbabylon
Summary: Sometime after Noites, the TARDIS goes on the blink. The down time gives the Doctor and Tegan a moment to tackle a very touchy subject.


Disclaimer: It all belongs to the BBC, I just play. Not so well in some cases.

Notes: This occurs in the same universe as Noites and some time afterwards.

**

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?" He glanced up from where he laid, his arms extended overhead to adjust the temporal cone housing in the console. His eyes quickly returned to what he was doing and he frowned. "This shouldn't be happening," he muttered. "The old girl should at least be making an effort to get to places." He adjusted another fitting and yiped as a shower of sparks rained about his head. "That certainly shouldn't have happened," he breathed. 

Tegan rolled her eyes and slowly sank to sit on the floor by the console. She crossed her arms and glanced irately over her shoulder at his long legs. He shifted, rising one to give him leverage as he adjusted another fitting. "Come on, old girl" he urged, grunting with the physical exertion to get the TARDIS. He was quiet for a moment and then he wiggled out of his sweater to hand it to her. "Hold this, will you?"

She took the offending sweater and frowned at him as she folded it. "You really should get this crate fixed, you know."

"I know perfectly well how to fix the TARDISTegan," his voice was stressed her name as his arms strained to move the stuck, offending knob. 

"You've done a fine job of fixing it up to now" she commented. "Can't we take it back to Gallifrey"

"And have me end up a trussed up version of a Christmas Turkey in Time Lord robes? Never, Tegan. No, no" he sighed and then grunted as he struggled with the knob. "I'm more than capable of fixing the TARDIS. Hand me the laser lance, please."

She rummaged around in the toolbox next to her leg and drug out the strange shaped tool. "Why you Time Lords can't just use spanners is beyond me."

He waggled his fingers impatiently. "Come on, Tegan. Hurry."

With a sigh, she put the tool in his hand. He whipped his hand back under the console and she heard him muttering in Gallifreyan as he tried to get the dampers shut. It didn't work apparently, and after an impressive pyrotechnic show, he slid out from under the console, his face abashed and his eyes wide.

Tegan had scooted back away from the console and he flew across the floor as well, crawling the rest of the way for the fire extinguisher. Tegan was already beating at the flames with his sweater by the time he joined her at the console. 

"Back away, Tegan," he called. She moved to the side and dodged as he sprayed the foam. 

She found herself half covered in foam and laughing uncontrollably despite the situation as the fire dowser settled. Her giggles disappeared as the light disappeared and the room was thrown into a rose colored room. "Cripeswe've lost power."

"Completely," he muttered. 

He took out his pocket torch and studied the underside of the console with a grunt. "The power bled from the main housing as a preventative process, I think"

"You don't know?"

"Well, no, Tegan. It's never happened before. But it has bled and will returnin a short time. We should be just fine."

"And the TARDIS?"

"Will have materialized in space. Thank goodness, most space is devoid of matter. That would have been rather messy: materializing in the middle of a planet or asteroid." He stood back, waving his hand to disperse smoke. Then he slipped his hands into his pockets. "The TARDIS should right itself. It will take a few moments, a few minutes to have the power return. All we have to do is wait."

"And Turlough?"

"Should be quite fine. He can find us here if he needs us," the Doctor bit his lip and shook his head. "I'll have to wait for full lighting to survey the damage. Now" he leaned forward on the edge of the console and stared at her. "I believe you were asking me a question, earlier, Tegan."

She shook her head, unsettled by the quick turn in conversation, but wasn't surprised by it. He had been like that since they had come back from Carnival, or the Brazilian Incident, as Tegan had taken to calling it. Often he would start a conversation, maintaining as little eye contact as possible but then he would stare at her and change the topic. No, Tegan thought after a moment, no, he wouldn't stare, he would gaze. And the topic of conversation was often one more personal than what had been discussed previously. It was almost as if he had to attack the topic of a personal conversation like another man would a thief. 

"I wanted to ask you about something that Illiana had said, Doc," she said, pointedly. She leaned into the central console, resting her hip against its lip. Her eyes had almost completely adjusted to the dark and she could see him slowly nodding his head. 

"Well, we do seem to have the time for conversation, Tegan," he muttered. He leaned into the console, mirroring her stance and crossed his arms. 

Tegan lifted an eyebrow and then plunged ahead with her question. "She said she was surprised that you were what I followed back across the soul bridge. She said it was because you were a Time Lord."

He gave a sigh. "And what's your question?" he prodded. "Tegan, you know I'm a Time Lord, unlike a fair number of my companions, you've known from the first day you met me."

"But what did she know about your kind that I don't?" Tegan rocketed back, her voice started at its own force. "What was so different about you?"

"You've met a fair amount of Time Lords for a human," he responded with almost a self-depreciating shrug. "What do you think is different about me?"

"Answering a question with a question isn't allowed, Doc" she replied, quickly, concisely.

"How do you want me to answer the question?" he asked, his agitation clearly piqued. 

"Simply? It's a simple question, Doc. Tell me about the Time Lordstell me what's different that she thought it strange that your friendship would help me out and why you're different than other Time Lords."

He inhaled sharply and she reached out to lay her hand just centimeters from his on the console. "DocI don't want to know why you left; I don't want to know anything about things like thatI just want to know"

"Why. One of the single most powerful words in the Universe," he muttered with a shake of his head. He gave her a glance. She could see his eyes looking to her in the dark. "All Time Lords are by default, Gallifreyan, but not all Gallifreyans are Time Lords, Tegan." He began. "It is a level of attainment for a Gallifreyan to be brought to that level of training, that level of education to be entrusted with the Gift of Rassilon."

"The Gift of-"

"Regeneration," the Doctor sighed. "Time Lords regenerate; not all Gallifreyans do, Tegan."

"So you went to school longer than others. That doesn't surprise me and it shouldn't have made her surprised, Doc"

"The training includes high level maths, extremely high level science, engineering, and languages. It takes longer than two of your life times, Tegan. Most Time Lords don't achieve that level to receive the Gift until they approach 200. As most Gallifreyans will live that long and longer, it is not that outrageous. But" he grimaced. "There are other things in the training that puts severe restraints on interactionsthe emotional detachment program. Every Time Lord hopeful must complete all higher levels of the program."

"Emotional detachment?" she asked, shaking her head. 

"Essentially," he gave a sigh. "Essentially it is a road map on how not to get involved. How can one be the proper custodian of time if one constantly wants to get involved with individuals who are so much smaller than time and space?"

Tegan frowned. She didn't like the sound of that. "Smaller than time and space" she muttered. "It doesn't sound like a very good program to me. Sounds like it was teaching you how to be incredibly arrogant."

The Doctor leaned forward; she felt his stare pounding into her from where he stood. "We are supposed to be the Custodians of Time, Tegan. We have the ability to see all of time for every civilization, indeed, every individual that ever lived or will live. We observe. We strive to keep Time from being interfered with; we strive to make sure that life continues as it should" His eyes were intense. "If we interfere, Tegan, we run the risk of throwing all of Time tumbling into disarray. The fabric will unravel"

"Get off it," she mentioned, quietly. "You interfere all the time."

"That would have been the response of my professor in the Academy had I asked that question, Tegan. Yes, I do interfere, but I do try to make sure that Time proceeds as 'right' as it can. And in most cases, I merely make a ripple in the pond of any given civilization. No" he sighed. "No, actually, Tegan. It's my friendships that cause more problems than my constant interactions. Although our placement in situations often causes ripples in the fabric of Time, they often occur when there has been a large upheaval, such as a war. Our small ripple is overwhelmed by the dropping of a large rock right next to us."

Tegan understood that. She nodded. "Our ripples are swallowed up, right?"

"Right!" he said with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. "But my friendships are like putting a tuning fork below the surface of the water of a very small pond. The water will then continually vibrate, causing ripples to occur all the time. By sustaining a long term friendship, I'm threatening to vibrate a small pond to death."

Tegan frowned. It didn't seem all that important to her that a small pond was being vibrated. But if it was a problem to him, she supposed he had a point. "And because I felt a strong friendship for you"

"And vice versa, Tegan," the Doctor rumbled after a moment's hesitation. 

"My pond is being vibrated." Tegan muttered.

"And everyone else's who will ever come into contact with you and any other situation that ever touches your life from this point forward," he continued, his voice hoarse. "And you miss the other side of the coin."

"That your life is being vibrated as well?" Tegan shook her head, suddenly confused. "But"

"I told you that romantic entanglement is the ultimate in intervention, Tegan," he mumbled, his voice low in the dim. "And"

She was startled, her breath catching in her throat. He hadn't mentioned their interlude in the jungle since it they had re-entered the TARDIS; sometimes she wondered if she had dreamt it all. She still had times when she was alone when she thought that it had simply been a mistake on her part and he was allowing her some measure of decorum by not mentioning what should have never happened. But then there were sometimes when she would watch him when he didn't know he was being observed and she would see a completely different situation. At those times, his dark blue eyes would be soft, his hands still, and he would sit quiet, staring off into the middle distance, his lips curled into a small smile. She hoped that maybe it was her or their interlude that he was remembering.

And the one time he had asked her if she wanted to go home, citing the near death experiences she had had in the jungle, she had seen yet another side of him. His demeanor had been guarded, as though he expected to hear that she did indeed want to go home. But his eyes had been wide, light, hopeful. And when she had said that she wanted to stay, at least for a little while yet, his smile had been free, open and seemed to reach his eyes and soul. He was truly happy that she wanted to stay. At that moment, she had felt warm, wanted and had, just for an instant, thought that maybe he had deeper feelings for her than she had anticipated.

His words now, too. 

"Romantic"

"Yes, well" the Doctor sighed, shifting nervously. "In most societies, Tegan, what weis considered nothing more than an aspect of friendship. But in yours, it is considered, in most sects, a sign of romantic entanglement."

"In yours"

"It doesn't happen often enough in Time Lord Society to be considered much of anything," he stated, matter-of-factly. He seemed to be squinting at the console then, his hands fidgeting on a knob.

She frowned. She had never considered the Doctor to be shy of all things. "And you think it's a sign that we're"

"Well, technically, we're lovers, yes?" he mumbled. "Friends, of course"

"Because you shag someone," she returned, quietly, gently, as if explaining it to a child, "doesn't automatically mean that you have a romantic relationship with them, Doc."

"I understand that," he returned, stronger. He walked about the console, adjusting non-working knobs. 

She frowned. He was running again. And he was getting tetchy. She decided there was no time like the present to ask the question she had really wanted to ask him. "But you think we're romantically involved."

His head whipped up and he appeared unsettled. "I only propose that our friendship is deeper" he retorted. 

"Ah," she said, muttered. "Affection."

"Of course," he replied, nodding. "I've affection for you. And it's not how much or how little, Tegan. It's the fact that I have it for you at all that violates the non-intervention rule."

"But how is affection for me any different than affection for Nyssa or Turlough or" she began, her voice catching on Adric's name. "You didn't seem to worry about befriending them."

The Doctor stopped moving about the console and stared at her across the hexagonal surface. His mouth gaped, as though he wanted to say something, but didn't quite know how to say it. She heard him take a deep breath, as if for strength and then exhale. Before he could start to talk, the lights came up suddenly, flooding the console room in bright light. Tegan blinked in an effort to clear her sight. When her eyes acclimated, the Doctor was staring intently at the console.

The moment was gone.

She sighed, dejectedly. She had felt, acutely, that he was going to say something that now she would probably never hear.

With a sigh, she watched him nurse his ship and wondered if she, again, had confused this moment in her mind to be something more than it was. 


End file.
